Borderlands: The Unsung Warriors
by Tharasian
Summary: The Hyperion Corporation has laid claim to Pandora. A tyrant stands astride the Borderlands, ruling with an iron fist. The Vault Hunters of New Haven are scattered to the winds. The promise of treasure calls, and only the brave or foolish answer. The planet of Pandora is ripe for bloodshed, as always, and four new hunters will answer the call in the race for fame and fortune.
1. Chapter 1

What was that? You want to hear another story? About adventure, battle, and loot? You can't get enough, eh? Heh, then gather round kiddies, because I have the perfect story for you. Not very long ago, four warriors embarked on a quest to find an alien treasure: a treasure known as... the Vault. The Vault was fabled to contain wealth, power, and the key to fame and fortune. All that the warriors found in it was disappointment. They disappeared, not realizing that the Vault's opening had begun the appearance of the element Eridium. The Hyperion Corporation arrived to mine the Eridium that appeared across Pandora. Soon, rumor began to spread that Pandora hid more than one Vault, and those rumors lured adventurers to seek out their own fortunes. These Vault Hunters came from all backgrounds and levels of skill, and often banded together to find the Vault. Our story begins not long after Jack, a Hyperion programmer, became CEO of the Hyperion Corporatrion. It begins with an engineer, and a soldier.../span/span/p


	2. Chapter 2

_-Helios Station, October 4, 2868-_

The station hung above the planet Pandora. It had been built to secure the planet under the control of the Hyperion Corporation. Its halls were sterile and blank, yellow and white steel forming into hexagonal corridors, and a low humming pervaded the entire structure.

Outside, the planet was visible, a vast sphere of green, blue and brown. A meeting was taking place between several ranking officials in the Corporation, and the view was perfect.

At least, until the explosion.

A fireball vaporized a large part of the room, killing over half of the officials inside. The remaining four were left dazed and stunned by the explosion, having been at the opposite end of the room.

Jace Mallerin walked in, hoping to find that his former employer would be dead when he arrived. He looked through the room, observing the blackened walls, the ashes of furniture and files that had filled the room mere moments before. The walls had warped near where he had placed the bomb, bending outward from the combination of the heat and the shockwave.

He looked at the dazed survivors, his mood darkening further when he saw that his target was still alive. Face contorting into a scowl, he drew his pistol and aimed at the man's head.

His target began to become lucid. "What? What happened? I- Mallerin?"

Jace breathed a moment to hold in his anger. "Mr. Mortimer. I'm sorry to interrupt." That had sounded better in his head. This wasn't what he had expected at all.

"What are you doing?" Mortimer growled, "You set a bomb in the conference room?"

Jace waited before answering, breathing to steady his aim. "I couldn't let you get away with everything that you did…"

Mortimer raised an eyebrow. "And so you're being the big hero? What a joke. And here I thought you might have grown a bit of actual spine other than your damned morals…"

Jace laughed bitterly. "Ha! You think I'm trying to be a hero? That chance died when I joined Hyperion." He remembered all the atrocities he had been part of on the Corporation's behalf. "And what the hell would you know about that kind of thing with the shit you pulled, by the way I am about to kill a man in cold blood, hows that for a man with no spine."

"No! Wait just-"

The pistol barked out a shot, and the other survivors screamed. Metal boots snapped against the polished floors.

Jace ran. He rushed out the door, and then continued down the hall. The sheer enormity of what he had just done weighed down his thoughts as he tried to escape, pistol in hand, desperately trying to remember the path towards the escape pods. Yellow-armored guards jumped into his path, and fell as he frantically fired. Rushing down the hall, he tried to remember the way.

 _Down the main causeway, second right, then… skip the first left? No! Take it!_

The alarm light flashed red along the angular hallways, and security Loaders began to digistruct into existence at their terminals. Ahead, the bulkhead was closing, slowly cutting off his escape. He ran faster, stretching his own endurance. He kept running until he passed through just before it closed, cutting the arm off of one of the security bots behind him.

 _-The Bone Wastes, Pandora-_

Miles took cover as the rounds of an assault rifle hit the corrugated metal wall he was hiding behind. He glanced around through his visor, assessing the area around him. Several metal shacks stood around him, some splattered with the blood of dead bandits, others damaged by explosives or corrosive rounds.

He had seen several barrels filled with corrosive material just behind the bandit barricades when he had been out in the open. Corrosive material could mean any number of things, from a poison to a highly destructive acid. He weighed the possibilities: acid was fairly common on Pandora, and the variety used by the Dahl mining forces only became truly dangerous when exposed to air. Meanwhile, a poison gas was less likely, but more lethal across a greater area.

Several more rounds impacted on his shelter, proving once and for all that Pandoran bandits were some of the worst problem solvers in history. Honestly, if they couldn't figure out that to hit an enemy in cover, all you had to do was go around said cover, then their elimination would probably benefit the entire human species in the long run.

He reached to his storage deck, a grenade digistructing into his grip. Glancing at his HUD to ensure that his air filter was at full functionality, he tossed the grenade, standing up to ensure he aimed it correctly. Ducking again, he counted to two seconds before there was an explosion, and his helmet's filter picked up dangerous amounts of poison gas. When he was certain that there were no bandits left in this part of the settlement, he walked past the bodies, and prepared for the next block of the small fortress.

 _-Jace-_

Jace's fingers clattered feverishly at the terminal's keys. He could hear the guards a few doors back, slowly undoing the hacked lockdown protocols that kept them at bay.

 _Okay… The password was… 1234? Nope. CL4P? No. Uh… 1337?_

The door opened in front of him, and he rushed through. The main concourse was thronging with panicked people, all Hyperion employees. He nudged his way through the crowd, becoming indistinguishable at a distance. Eventually, he reached the next hall, and set to opening the next door.

 _Okay… So the door opens, then I take the… third left, then the first right, and then go through the secondary concourse and straight to the escape pods. At least I won't have to use the moonshot cannon as an impromptu transport system._

Within moments, the door slid open.

There were twelve Hyperion corporate soldiers on the other side.

 _DAMMIT!_

Jace turned and ran, bullets pinging off of the walls around him. A few grazed him as they passed, and he could hear the soldiers running to catch up with him. Without looking at the sign next to it, he turned into a side hallway, desperately attempting to escape the corporate soldiers. He entered a large room, and immediately turned to the door terminal. He set to hacking it, forcing the door to lock down.

"Lockdown engaged. Emergency situation acknowledged."

He breathed a sigh of relief. That meant he had a few minutes to decide his course of action.

"Okay Jace, think. You're on the run from the entire security force on the station, locked in a room with only one pistol to defend yourself, and you probably won't get a decent severance package for your trouble. This is admittedly not your finest moment." he said to himself.

He studied the room. A large shipping container sat to one side, and a control panel stood nearby. An imaginary lightbulb went off in his head as he realized where he was.

"Crap. This is a moonshot station."

Jace measured his options. He could wait, sitting there until the Hyperion soldiers broke in. Then he would probably die in a hail of gunfire. Or, he could be stupid and use the moonshot cannon as an impromptu escape pod.

On second thought, there was no contest.

Holstering his gun in his storage deck, he rushed to the control panel and immediately began programming an automatic moonshot. As he finished the program, he could hear the door click as the lockdown was lifted. Turning, he ran to the shipping container. The automated protocols placed a lid on the end just after he got inside. Outside, he could see the door burst open, yellow-armored Hyperion soldiers charging in.

Then, with a sickening lurch, the moonshot fired, and Jace flew to the planet below.

 _-Miles-_

Miles shot once with his revolver. Another bandit fell, his ribcage shattered by the force of the shot. He fired again, and another bandit died, staggering into a barrel of explosive gel. The resulting explosion knocked down a metal wall, causing it to fall on top of two more masked raiders.

He scanned the compound one last time. Only one life sign left where once there had been over twenty. This clan was below average in both size and skill. No match for a trained professional. Riot shield in hand, he entered the final structure, an old broadcast tower.

Inside, he found a machine gun aimed at his faceplate.

"Shoulda known some grinder would send a merc after me eventually. Didn't expect a Lanceman, though," the bandit chief said.

Miles looked at him. The chief was outfitted in old Crimson Lance armor, with worn cloth forming a cloak about his shoulders, and the faceplate half missing. "Former Crimson Lance private Byron Falkland, I assume?"

The bandit chief paused, clearly surprised by Miles' lack of abject terror at having a support machine gun aimed at his face. "Do I know ya, merc?"

Miles nodded. "You do. Lieutenant Miles Nemo, Defender, Beta Platoon, E Company, 8th Battalion, 3rd Starborne Brigade. Serial number 3BDF 7308." He could practically see the bandit blink at the answer.

"That was... overly long-winded. You could've just said 'Lieutenant Nemo,' and it would've worked just as well."

"I know," Miles said, "but it wouldn't have confused you." He then fired the pistol he had aimed at the chief's hand while he was distracting him.

The bandit recoiled, screaming. "What the hell!? That's it! You're dead grinder!"

Miles sighed beneath his helmet. The shock at their little conversation had been amusing at first, but would soon get repetitive if he drew this out. He strode forward, armored boots clacking against the floor. "Private Falkland, you are guilty of the crimes of banditry, murder, and desertion. By Crimson Lance regulation, and the contract paying me, you are hereby sentenced to death. Any last words?" He aimed his pistol at Falkland's head.

The chief's eyes widened. "Wait! Why can't I make you a deal? I can probably pay ya at least-"

"I don't make deals with bandits," Miles cut him off as he pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed in the small structure, and Miles walked to one of the panels, pressing the button that reactivated the broadcast signal. He confirmed that the channel was his team's comms network, and was pleased to find that the ECHO broadcaster had not been tampered with.

Walking outside, he looked up. A streak of light moved slowly across the sky.

"A shooting star? In the middle of the day?" he wondered out loud.

The object in question quickly proved that assessment false, as it was falling toward the earth. Miles' eyes widened, and he dove behind one of the thick barricades.

A moment later, a thundering crash and a shockwave broke the silence.

 _-Jace-_

Jace crawled out of the mangled crate, gasping for breath in the dust-choked air. "Thank god for Zero-G generators."

He looked around, attempting to get his bearings. Like everything in the region, the area he had landed in was desert. Specifically, an area called the Bone Wastes, if he remembered correctly.

A voice broke through the stunned silence. "Well, look at that! Some idiot corporate flunkie just landed in our laps!"

Jace turned to his left. Standing not fifteen feet away were two bandits, apparently convinced that he was just a potential target for them to rob. They were about to be sorely disappointed.

"Listen here, bud. Just hand over everything you've got, and maybe we'll go easy on ya. Whaddaya say?" the first bandit asked.

Jace thought for a moment. This could only end well for him, if he pulled it off. He proceeded to raise his hands, as if in surrender.

The first bandit walked over to take anything Jace had on him. As soon as they were within a few feet of each other, Jace jumped up. Catching the bandit, Jace drew his pistol and put it against the bandits head.

Holding the first bandit hostage, Jace looked at the second. "Put the weapon down."

The two bandits seemed shocked that a mark could so easily put them in this situation. After a moment, the second bandit said "Okay, okay. See? I'm putting the gun down…" as he put his rifle on the ground.

"Thank you." Jace said to the second bandit.

*BAM*

Jace's pistol went off as the first bandit fell to the ground, dead.

Jace then turned his gun towards the second bandit. "How about we make a deal? What do you say?"

The bandit nodded frantically. "Yessir! Always, sir! Please, sir, don't kill me!"

Jace nodded in approval. "Now, you will take me to the nearest settlement, and then you will never bother me again. Got it?"

Another nod, followed by more frantic groveling.

Jace picked up one of the rifles dropped by the bandit and followed him, his pistol trained on the bandit's head. Their walk ended at a Bandit technical that had been parked nearby.0

Jace got into the technical's passenger seat as the bandit got into the driver's seat, Jace still aiming his pistol at the bandit's head.

The next two hours were spent in complete, awkward silence.

 _-Miles-_

Having decided many years ago that he wanted to live at least until the (for a Promethean) ripe old age of forty, Miles waited exactly fifteen minutes before emerging from behind the barricade.

He checked his HUD again, not wanting to find any surprises when he stood up. He checked his radar: nothing. His minimap: nothing. Finally, he just listened as the dust settled. Nothing again. Holstering his pistol, he digistructed his riot shield back into digital code, and drawing his rifle, he slowly stood up.

No shots were fired. Nothing was making a sound. Nothing happened at all. Miles slowly turned, scanning his surroundings for any sign of danger, or movement, or anything, really.

As he slowly turned, he finally saw the crater, and the cargo crate that lay at the bottom. The object had landed about a hundred meters away, and was still surrounded by clouds of brown dust.

Walking toward the crater, he noted the tire tracks leading eastward, and the dead bandit lying in the dust. The crater itself surrounded a Hyperion cargo container, obviously reinforced for use in the moonshot deliveries. The container was open, and the bandit was facing the wrong way to have been the one inside. Not to mention that if he was, he most likely would have been a fine paste all over the inside of the box. Bandits weren't usually smart enough to take the necessary precautions to survive such a risky move.

However… THAT led to the implication that whoever, or whatever, had come down to the planet had survived, killed a bandit, and gotten away before Miles had decided it was safe again. Miles suddenly felt tired. He would almost certainly be the one sent out to find the missing person. And that meant a blood trail, and he had done his share of finding bodies a long time ago.

"Another day in this hellhole…" Miles muttered to himself. He walked away from the crater, back towards where he had left his Lancer APC. As he walked, he activated his ECHO communicator. "Hermes Junction? This is Lieutenant Nemo. Private Falkland has been punished, but I have some unusual news."

A voice came back through his communication. "Unusual? Lieutenant, we need more information than that it's 'unusual.' Do you have any actual details?"

Miles thought carefully as he reached his Lancer. Looking back out at the desert, he replied: "Only this, Command: There's a new player in the Borderlands."


End file.
